


Rites of Spring

by rivlee



Series: Brooklyn Avengers [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Baseball, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the most wonderful time of the year. Spring Training comes to the Brooklyn Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rites of Spring

The tinny sound of _SporstCenter_ was drowned out by the noise of bat meeting ball from the indoor batting cages of Robinson Stadium. There were only three occupants in the empty clubhouse; a rarity in a room that would soon be swamped with the smell of too many sweating bodies in too small a space. Only one of the three was in uniform, the other two in t-shirts playing cards, as the sportscasters droned on about the upcoming baseball season.

_“Well, Bob, Spring Training kicks off this week. Any teams or players you’ve got your eye on before April?”_

_“Darren, I’ve got to say I’m looking at the Brooklyn Avengers. After the mid-season acquisition of Tony Stark last year and grabbing Clint Barton during the Winter Meetings, the spotlight is going to be on the Avengers. It remains to be seen if team captain, Steve Rogers, can keep Stark’s drama off the field and out of the clubhouse.”_

_“Manager Nick Fury and the rest of the Avengers’ coaching staff clearly have their work cut out for them this spring. Let’s see what they can do. Jerry?”_

_“Thanks Bob and Darren. Enjoy the sunshine down in Florida. Now we move to Boston where the Bruins tried to continue their three-game-winning-streak last night.”_

“Sounds like they’re talking about Cap,” Wade Wilson said.

“When are they not?” Remy LeBeau asked before sliding his hand over his cards. “Got any twos?”

“Go fish,” Wilson said. 

The man in the cage—Cap to his team and the world, Steve Rogers to the rest— just kept swinging. 

 

********************

  
_**Tampa—** All eyes are on Robinson Stadium and the Brooklyn Avengers this February as Tony Stark begins his first full season as the number one pitcher in the rotation for the American League East’s youngest expansion team. While team captain Steve Rogers caught for Stark all through the back-half of last season, the acquisition of James Rhodes for Jim Hammond should allow the catcher some much-needed off days while providing a deeper bench for the Avengers. The question is whether Stark, notorious for his inability to play well with others, will even allow Rhodes the chance to work with him._

_Meanwhile scouting reports wonder if the Avengers’ strong infield will remain tight throughout the whole season with worries over third baseman Luke Cage’s off-season knee injury, and how Clint Barton will fit in as their new shortstop. After the meltdown that occurred on the field last August, the Avengers need to prove that their decent fielding can last a whole season._

__

Anticipation is high to see if first baseman Thor Odinson, second baseman Pietro Maximoff, and Barton can make that solid 1-2-3 out combo that’s become the Avengers’ infield trademark. One thing is certain—unless Barton’s suddenly forgot how to use a glove, he will cut down on the team’s infield errors.  


Sam Wilson, Avengers right fielder, frowned at the article in his morning paper. He left it under his coffee cup along with a hefty tip before grabbing his bags and heading to his flight’s gate. It looked like the fun of the season had already started.

******************

“I hate you more and more with each second,” Sam said as he jogged beside Steve. “It’s early. It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s February. Why the hell am I running with you?”

“Because that one sport writer pissed you off when he implied that you’re getting too old to steal bases so you’re trying to prove yourself by actually working out before the official start of _your_ Spring Training.” 

Sam loved Steve Rogers, his friend, his catcher, and his captain, but the asshole had lapped him twice already and was running backwards. He should’ve run with Barnes. At least Bucky would take him out for a greasy slice of pizza and a beer after a work-out. It’s not that Steve wouldn’t do the same, but Cap inspired people to be better by his sheer presence, and it was hard to dig into greasy heaven when your dining companion happily munched on grilled chicken and broccoli. 

“You’re thinking about my eating habits again,” Steve said. He shook his head and motioned for them to start their cool down. “It’s not unholy to like vegetables, Sam.”

“You eat spinach like it’s popcorn. You willingly eat celery without peanut butter or ranch dressing. You make your own trail mix.”

“I put chocolate in it,” Steve argued.

Sam solemnly nodded. “Ah, yes, your one weakness. Even _you_ can’t fight the demon’s pull and the siren call of the devil M &M’s.” 

Steve ran a hand through his hair and his shoulders hunched in that way he only let a few see. It was the unguarded, uncertain action of a young, sickly boy who would fight, endure, and become baseball most beloved active player. There were men who tried to be famous in their career through who they dated, what they endorsed, and where they partied, and there was Steve Fucking Rogers who got it by being an aw-shucks kid from Brooklyn with a powerful strategic mind to take over an dominate before you even realized it.

It’s why Sam always had to run with Steve, even if he wanted to spend another hour in bed. If he wanted to stay true to himself in a job where contracts where in the millions and people were willing to do _anything_ for five seconds of your time, he liked the constant reminder that it didn’t have to change the fundamental part of your core. 

“I guess I just consider it a luxury to eat fresh food like that, you know,” Steve said.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, bro, I get it. Poor city kids like us with government-funded meals.” He slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders as they walked to the metal benches to collect their bags. “I guess some things weren’t so different between Harlem and Brooklyn. Still don’t think that explains liking brussels sprouts though.”

“Well, I pour butter on those,” Steve admitted. He took a swig of his water bottle and closed his eyes. “I have a meeting with the front office today.”

“Press conference already?” Sam asked. “You just got here. Stark just got here. There can’t be shit already.”

Steve fiddled with his cap. “Not yet, but someone’s accused Thor of doping again. Rumors about Bucky’s arm are making the rounds and it’s starting to reflect on the pre-season scouting reports. Some gossip site says Barton’s girlfriend is a high school student. Namor made some anti-government statements and now people are calling for him to be fired.” 

“It’s only the second week of February,” Sam said. 

Steve grimaced. “Imagine what September’s going to be like.”

******************

The _People_ magazine cover in the local Wal-Mart claimed it had an exclusive about Brooklyn Avengers team owner Pepper Potts making wedding plans with star pitcher Tony Stark. _Us Weekly_ had the close-up shots of her hands with speculation on the appearance or absence of an engagement ring. _Star_ announced it had pictures of their secret love nest.

Happy Hogan bought a copy of each, along with _Weekly World News_ , because everyone needed to remain vigilant about the appearance of the Loch Ness monster.

“That’ll be $21.50,” the cashier said.

Happy frowned. “For four gossip rags and a chocolate bar?” he asked.

“Oh, forgot about that,” the kid said. His nametag read _Billy_ and he smiled politely as he scanned a _Milky Way_. “That’ll be $23.78. Enjoy!”

Happy didn’t say anything else as he paid. He had recon to do, even if it was overpriced trash.

******************

 

“Of course you’re already in your full uniform,” Tony Stark’s voice announced as he entered the locker room. “Got to impress the hopefuls before their dreams are squandered under the weight of better talent and the truth of number and averages. It’s not like you aren’t paid enough to buy a decent workout wardrobe with some class.”

“If you want class there are a couple other teams in New York that’ll take ya,” LeBeau said.

“Cute, Backwoods,” Stark said. 

“Tony, glad to see the jaundice hasn’t set in after your weekend off. Your liver must thank you,” Steve said.

Tony held a hand to his chest and grasped for an imaginary set of pearls. “I heard tell how bad that Barnes boy was for you. Now I see that you’ve truly had a winter of debauchery. I know that stoic face you gave upon my arrival was all lies. What _will_ our General Manager say?”

“Please refrain from being a fire hazard and stop blocking the entrance,” Phil Coulson said from behind him. He casually walked past Stark into the center of the room. “Gentleman, if you would give me your attention.”

It was a general rule that no one disrespected the front office, no matter how they felt about contract negotiations or trade rumors, every single one of them had a job to do. Fury didn’t care what you said out of the clubhouse, or even on the field, but inside the building you showed respect for each and every person in the franchise. Sometimes that level of respect came in different ways, since Tony and Bucky had enough attitude to fill five stadiums, but they both knew the proper time and place.

Everyone, even those players reporting for their very first day of try-outs with the Avengers, gave Phil Coulson their attention.

“Thank you,” he said. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we have a new shortstop in Mr. Clint Barton.” Clint waved his hand from his locker space next to Pietro Maximoff. “I hope you make him feel welcome, though that is not an excuse to cause a scandal, Mr. Stark. The same goes double for you, Mr. Barnes. Mr. Odinson, please refrain from taking him out for the honorary drink until _after_ we’ve made it past our first game.”

“As you wish,” Thor said.

“For those of you here on invitation, you must be aware that our main fielding positions are full. While we are in the market for utility players, we are, like all teams, looking to enrich our bullpen. If you think you have a better chance with another team, please do not waste our time or your own and leave now. As for the rest of you, good luck. For our contracted players, remember that thou art mortal.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Bucky said. “That makes me feel like a real winner.”

“How _is_ that arm, Mr. Barnes?” Phil asked.

Bucky grinned. “Right as rain. Just ask Nat.”

“Your mouth is clearly in working order, at least,” Nick Fury said. “Kids, don’t follow Barnes’ example unless you have the talent to back it up.”

“What about Stark?” Pietro asked.

“Fine. Kids only follow Barnes and Stark’s examples if you have the money, lawyers, and talent to back it up,” Fury corrected. “Today each and every one of you will show what you can do on the field. If you can’t cut it, and don’t have a proper fucking excuse for why, you will be gone.”

Everyone knew Wilson was responsible for the sudden blaring of _The Imperial March_.

 

******************

 

“James Barnes is starting his third full season with the Avengers this spring. He faces his own difficult task this season with the outfield. Sam Wilson’s golden for him in right field, but that Parker kid in left can’t help but climb the walls and he’s going to get himself killed one of these days,” Jack Monroe said as he finished his assessment of the Avengers’ roster. 

“Not to mention the rumors that Barnes’ left arm isn’t what it used to be,” Maria Hill agreed. “Inside sources claim it’s the reason the Angels let him go without much of a fight.”

The silence is the hotel room was overwhelming as Bucky turned the tv off. “Who asked her anyway,” he said.

Sam leaned across the twin beds to poke at his arm. “How does it feel, though? Really feel? Don’t feed me whatever bullshit line you’ve given our boy. Steve might let you get away with murder this early in the season, but I don’t want to have to spend the next year listening to him go off on how fucking stupid you’re being.”

“At least not about my arm, right?”

Sam shrugged. “He usually let’s your more creative nighttime entertainment decisions pass without comment. Just tell me how the arm is, Barnes.”

“It’s good,” Bucky said. “Actually better than last season. Steve and Nat both yelled at me for a month until I agreed to regular sessions with a physical therapist. The tear finally healed, but I haven’t really thrown anything since October. Well, except for tennis balls in rehab sessions, of course. We’ll see how fucked-up my aim really is tomorrow. Fury just made me observe today. I’m sure Steve said something to him.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Considering I’ve seen you actually catch and throw accurately in the outfield with a blindfold on, I think you’ll be fine.”

“You think?” Bucky’s smile was pure smartass, genuine, but still smartass. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Eh, you’re still not going to be as good as me, son.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up old man.” Bucky looked around the room and frowned at the art on the wall. “Let’s get the hell out of here. This place reminds me of my grandma’s.”

“Not _all_ of us own two properties in Florida. Deal with how the other side lives, Barnes.”

“Hey, you and Steve want to freeze your balls off all winter in New York, that’s up to you. Me? I’ve had enough of the cold.”

“Yet you still manage to be there for every holiday, and somehow, the worst blizzards,” Sam said as he grabbed his keys and wallet.

“First, I will not miss Sarah Rogers’ mashed potatoes for the world,” Bucky said as he held open the door. “Two, I will also not allow you and Steve to go around digging out the neighbors cars by yourselves, because you _claim_ just to help those who really need it and end up doing two whole blocks before you agents start calling me to yell at you. It’s just easier to be there from the start and picked up the slack. And C, presents.”

“And you have two homes down here in Florida again because?” Sam asked.

Bucky waited until they were in Sam’s car and far away from any possible hidden recording devices before answering. “Steve likes the Magical World of Harry Potter, okay? I figure if I can get him within a few hours of the place that’s not next to one of our stadiums, it’s a good enough excuse for a vacation.”

Sam put the keys in the ignition and started to back out of his spot, laughing the whole time. “You know failure to communicate your needs brings down even the most dedicated of marriages.”

“Fuck you, Wilson. See if I pay for your dinner.”

***************

_“In surprising news out of Tampa, rumor has it that the Brooklyn Avengers are going to attempt a position switch for James Rhodes. We go to our _Baseball Tonight_ crew with more. Peter?”_

_“Thanks, Carly. From what scouts and fans have observed during team practices, it appears James Rhodes, the All-Star catcher acquired during the offseason, is being put on the mound. John, as a pitcher, how do you feel about this change?”_

_“Look, I don’t really know what’s going through the minds of Phil Coulson and Nick Fury, but they know their bench is weak when it comes to a stable closer. They have plenty of good set-up men, but you can’t blame the guys for trying anything they can when their star pitcher refuses to give up the ball. They need Stark’s arm to last for the rest of his contract, and if having him there to tailor-train his closer will do it? I say, good luck, and I can’t wait for the show to start._

****************

“Stark still trying to break Cap’s calm?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the dugout railing. He was still in street clothes, since Fury was still softballing him with work every-other-day, but he still liked to be present to watch his team.

Natasha Romanoff nodded from where she was making scouting notes on her iPad. “He’s attempting it, but I think we all know _you_ are the only who has ever successfully broken his concentration.”

Bucky grinned. “I do have my ways.”

“So I recall, James,” she said with the smallest hint of a knowing smile. “Rumor has it you’re leaving Red Room.”

Bucky cursed under his breath. He’d only finally ended it with his agent last night. “Of course you already know. Carol’s made noise about an offer before. I figured I’d see her later this week.”

“And Steve trusts her,” Natasha said. She nodded in approval. “It will serve you well. You’re not the boy you used to be.”

“Still not golden,” Bucky said. He watched Steve coach Teddy Altman on how to check for runners from behind the plate. “Can’t imagine ever being so.”

“Some of us like those who are tarnished,” Natasha said. “Some especially love them.” She handed Bucky his glove without any explanation as to how it wound up there. “Go suit-up and handle your outfield.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

******************

“You lied to me,” Tony said as he clutched a newspaper to his chest. The headline read _Rhodes to Close_. “Are you even allowed to do that? I expect that from my manager, but you, O Captain, My Captain, make it feel like betrayal.”

Steve could feel his tension headache from this morning multiple. He finally gave up and swapped out his contacts for his glasses. Of course Stark took that as leave to sit in Sam’s chair.

“Can you please stop quoting a poem about a dead man at me?” he asked. “It’s not a compliment when it’s part of a memorial for Lincoln, Tony.”

“But it always makes you look so gob smacked that it’s adorable,” Tony said. “That’s a word they still use in the quaint little main street Americana town you come from, right?”

“You know we’re from Brooklyn,” Buck said as he tugged his belt through it loops. 

“All I’m hearing when you speak is gentrification and hipsters,” Tony said.

“So claims the man who lives in a penthouse where Hell’s Kitchen used to be,” Sam said. He poked Tony’s shoulder. “Vacate.”

“Want me to break his wrists, Cap?” Luke asked with a pointed look to his bat bag.

“Back to your video simulation, Cage,” Tony ordered.

Steve shook his head at the two of them. “Don’t disrespect the bats like that, Luke,” he said. He turned back to Tony as he started to wrap his wrists. “Tony, like our methods or not, we wanted you to develop a relationship with Rhodey before we introduced him as your possible reliever. We didn’t lie to you—he _is_ a catcher as of this moment. We _want_ him to go back to pitching.”

“He’s never been a reliever before.”

“He saved two world series games against the Yankees in New York. He has solid work as a set-up man and if he can save a game under that kind of pressure, I’m not worried about him in April.”

“He saved those games four years ago.”

“He still practices his pitching.”

Tony, even as stubborn as Steve, recognized a lost cause. He cocked his head as he studied Steve’s body. “And what about you?”

“What _about_ me?” Steve asked.

“You need a back-up catcher. A decent one, not that asshole who filled in for you last season when Barnes had to drag you off the field because he had the good sense to know the difference between a burst appendix and some food poisoning.”

“Burnside tried his best,” Steve argued. “And I know the difference between food poisoning and a burst appendix, Stark.”

“Dragged off the field,” Tony repeated.

“And Burnside was an asshole with a god complex,” Sam said.

“And I don’t think Isaiah Bradley is willing to come out of retirement again—even for you,” Tony said. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s still got his arm, but his knees are shot and he couldn’t get up fast enough to throw someone out at second without breaking something serious. If you leave me with Namor, neither one of us should be held responsible for our actions. So, what about your back-up O Cap, My Cap?”

Captain S. Rogers did not roll his eyes, even if Steve Rogers did. He took a deep breath and turned to Sam, speaking loud enough for their potential new teammates to hear him. “Sam, what’s the unofficial motto of the Avengers?”

“Trust in Ms. Potts, and if you don’t, Nat will rip your balls off.”

Tony’s face remained bored as he shrugged. “Fine; fair enough for now. If you cost me the Cy Young again, I’m going to take you off my Christmas card list.”

“Pepper’s just going to put him back on,” Bucky said.

Tony glared at him. “And you just go yourself downgraded to monogrammed towel.”

“Bah humbug,” Bucky said before he strategically spit his sunflower seed shell into Stark’s $10 cup of coffee.

*****************

Carol Danvers became a sports agent when almost every other avenue she tried refused to hire her as a scout. It apparently didn’t matter that she led her alma mater to the college world series or Team USA’s softball team to Olympic gold. All they saw when they looked at her was a pretty face who did a Maxim shoot after her first Olympic win because hell yeah, she needed the money and no one was offering her a Wheaties’s box to pose on. She wasn’t ashamed of it either. There was nothing wrong with body pride, and she had no trouble admitting she looked damn gorgeous in her spread.

Still it made it damn near impossible for the good old boys of baseball and the sports world to take her seriously and she promised Steve, her first and oldest client, that she wouldn’t keep threatening to punch out all the assholes in baseball. First, because she would break all her fingers before she even got through a quarter of them. Second, because _Steve_ wanted to be there to help. She needed him to remain baseball’s golden boy to rake in the money though, so they both agreed to go with quiet and competent success as the best revenge.

It helped that Sharon Carter, one of her new agents, was a fucking shark. She had already lured Bruce Banner, Keith Remsen, and gymnastics darling Rikki Barnes to their agency. With the help of Rikki, Steve, and Sharon’s own powers of persuasion, they were _hoping_ to get James Barnes from Red Room Representation before the end of the season. 

Carol knew Bucky was a shoe-in. The second he left the Angels for the Avengers it was obvious he was coming home and trying to shed that Hollywood ballplayer image some of them got out in California; an inevitability that fell on all young, talented rookies far away from home. Back east now, Bucky still remained a sarcastic, cocky asshole who usually turned up on Page Six once a month for some nightclub outing or off-the-cuff comment. Steve claimed Bucky wasn’t anywhere near the arrogant jackass he appeared, but Carol knew Bucky was Steve’s biggest blind spot of them all.

There was _some_ concern that the combination of Barnes and Barton would ruin all attempts to make a good reputation on both of their parts, but Carol could work with a little redemption cycle. 

“Ms. Danvers?”

Carol looked up as her newest intern, Kamala Khan, lingered in her doorway.

“Yes, Miss Khan?”

“There’s a Mr. Barnes here to see you. He said you’d be expecting him.”

Carol let herself breath in the joy of victory. “Please, send him in.”

***************

“If I ask how you’re feeling about the team, are you going to tell me the truth?”

Steve frowned. “When have I ever lied to you, Buck?”

“The Bradley kid is going to get cut from the forty-man roster.”

“I know.”

“Probably the Altman kid too.”

“I know,” Steve said.

“You’re still going to waste time mentoring him, though.”

“It’s not a waste. He’s not ready yet, but give it a few months and more time in Triple-A ball, and he will be.” He traced the line of Bucky’s jaw up to his ear with a soft, affectionate kiss. “What can I say? I root for the underdog. We can’t all come out of college as Rookie of the Year material.”

“And who actually won that year?” Bucky asked with a hand gripping the skin low on Steve’s back.

“Who got to the World Series first?”

“Who still got all the magazine covers, regardless? Face it, Rogers; you’re the commissioner’s— and the public’s—favorite.” Both his hands teased up Steve’s spine to grip the back of his neck. “Can’t imagine why. Must be that fool smile.”

“And yet you’re the one they all want to sleep with,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s mouth. “Must be that topless spread in _GQ_.”

Bucky caught Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged once before letting go. “Oh, so that’s what’s hidden under you mattress? I thought it was the official rulebook.”

“Better the rulebook than that copy of _Fifty Shades of Grey_ buried in the bottom of your duffle bag.”

“Asshole.”

“Jackass.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

They both grinned at each other before Steve laid his head down on Bucky’s chest and Bucky reached over to the nightstand to turn off the lamp. They only had a month and a half left in Florida, and Steve was going to enjoy this as long as he could.

*****************

“I don’t like being handed things,” Tony told Rhodey.

“Then use your glove and just consider it catching a ball—also known as your job.”

Tony looked over Rhodey’s shoulder to Steve where he was met with a shrug and Steve’s best attempt at an innocent look.

Bruce Banner tugged on the brim as his hat before moving next to Steve and giving them each a pointed look. While only a Designated Hitter now, he was one of the veterans of the team, and Stark actually sought out his company on a day-to-day basis. Bruce was practically a wizard when it came to designing offensive strategies, and the second he retired there was a place on the coaching staff for him.

For now, he was helping Steve keep Stark and Rhodes from killing each other. 

“Unless someone wants me to call Ms. Romanoff and Ms. Pots down here, I suggest we get back to work,” Bruce said. 

“Maybe we can lock them in a closet,” Bruce suggested as Rhodes and Stark fought over signals once again.

“I don’t think Seven Minutes in Heaven works on teammate relations,” Steve said.

“Depends on the relations,” Sam said.

“Worked for us,” Bucky murmured into Steve’s ear, only loud enough for Steve and Sam to hear.

“Perhaps we should perform a team bonding exercise?” Thor asked.

Steve blanched as he thought of any of them trying to catch Thor in a trust fall. There would be so many broken bones and contracts. Fury would kill them all.

“We need to do something or else we’re not going to survive the rest of Spring Training, much less the whole season to follow,” Luke said. 

Steve grimaced as Tony purposefully threw a ball over Rhodes’ head and into the protective netting around the stands.

“Alright, Stark, go cop a squat behind the plate,” Rhodey yelled.

“Excuse me?” Tony asked.

“This will end well,” Bruce muttered.

Rhodey pointed to home plate. “Squat—now.” He marched to the mound and said nothing until Tony got comfortable.

“I’m waiting,” Tony said.

Rhodey threw a cutter so hard Steve flinched at the sound of it hitting Tony’s glove. Steve leaned to his side to check the radar gun in Sitwell’s hands. It read _98_.

On the field Tony was shaking his head. 

“Enough?” Rhodey asked.

Tony looked up and turned to the bat kids. “Hey, Robin, Barbara, go get me some gear and an actual catcher’s mitt.”

Steve knew he was glaring form his spot at Sitwell’s side and only smiled when Tony added a forced out _please_. 

When he had his gear on, some of Steve’s practice stuff that was still too loose in the shoulders—and lord, would Pepper have words when she found out about this—Tony crouched down without a word.

Rhodey nodded and threw again. This time it was a slider. Even Tony wasn’t fast enough to catch it and it went into the dirt. The gun read _103_. 

Sam whistled. “That’s some impressive heat.”

Steve looked over at Fury who was just in the entryway of the tunnel. He gave Steve the go-ahead nod.

Steve whistled to call the team to attention. “Alright, let’s get Tony some gear that actually fits. Teddy, Eli, and Bucky, I want you out by the fence. Clint? You get in the infield with Luke, Thor, and Pietro. Sam, you get the scorecard. Parker?”

“Yes, Cap?”

“You get to be the umpire. Don’t let Stark trash talk you.”

Steve took Bruce’s helmet from the shelf and handed it to him. “Banner, you’re up to bat.”

**********************

There was a contract proposal in front of Pepper Potts which already had her General Manager’s approval. Phil Coulson was a man she trusted, and genius by way of madness was not an unfamiliar thing in her life, but this seemed a little far-fetched. She looked up at the eager faces of her front office, trusted coach, and captain. Howard Stark should’ve warned her about days like these, but he’d always preferred the Sink-or-Swim method.

“You really want to make a catcher a closer,” Pepper said as she reviewed the revised contract for James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes. “Nick, with all due respect, have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Rhodes has an arm that can throw up to 100 miles per hour and was a pitcher in college and the minors,” Nick Fury said. 

“And had four starts in the major leagues, all disastrous, before switching to his current infield position,” she argued. 

“I think it’s time to bring him back to the mound. We need a decent closer, one Stark will willingly hand the ball over to, and after these past weeks he’s shown something like mutual respect towards Rhodes. There’s been amazing progress in the last week alone.”

It was also an act of mutual respect that spoke to the fact neither Pepper nor Nick made mention of her personal relationship with their star pitcher. 

Pepper shook her head. “I suppose it’s worked for Kenley Jansen. You and Phil will find me a terrific bat to replace the one you’re removing from my line-up.”

“Phil’s in negotiations to grab Richter from the Mariners.”

“See that he does.”

*******************

“Pete needs a new agent.”

Carol Danvers looked up from her computer screen into the earnest face of Steve Rogers. Those eyes had made people donate millions to charity. That smile sold cereal boxes, sports drinks, and IcyHot. She knew what had to be done.

“No,” she said. She would not be defeated, even by the crestfallen expression that made her feel like she just kicked all the world’s puppies.

“Come on, Carol. His last agent took an exorbitant chunk of Pete’s endorsement profits. Kid never said anything because he had enough to support his family and pay his taxes, but he deserves better.”

“I thought you didn’t care about money,” Carol said.

“Not my own, but he’s just a kid.”

“You just turned thirty,” Carol said, eyeing him over the frames of her glasses.

“And he’s twenty-three. Besides, the kid knows everybody. Think of all those possible connections.”

“You do appeal to my desire for sport’s world domination.” Carol paged through her iPad and pulled up her calendar. “I’ll consider it. I’ll let you know by mid-week.” 

Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I am, as always, forever in your debt.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows as she watched Steve leave. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that casually affectionate.”

“You just have to know him for half a decade,” Carol said. Her eyes dropped to the paper in Sharon’s hands. “What magical treasure have you discovered?”

“James Rhodes and his agent are split over that position change. Rhodes apparently agreed to the revised contract over his agent’s protest and the sharks are getting ready to circle. I figured we’d better be the first.”

“What if he fails as a closer?” Carol asked. “I know his past, his experience, but he’s not a kid anymore.”

Sharon shrugged. “I suppose it depends on how much you trust Steve Rogers and his judgment.”

Carol pointed to the sheet. “So, we’re out for blood then.”

*****************

Bucky usually woke-up at four in the morning when Steve stumbled out of bed, inevitably hitting at least one object on his quest to the bathroom, but after the shower started Bucky always went back to sleep. This morning wasn’t an option since someone pressed down on the doorbell at four-fifteen and would not let up.

“You better be dying,” he yelled when he spied Tony Stark through the window.

“Let me in before I start serenading outside Rogers’ bedroom.”

Bucky rested his forehead against the closed door and reminded himself that despite it all, Steve actually liked Tony and there would be massive consequences for punching him in the face. 

“Did I hear the doorbell?” Steve asked. He was already in his workout t-shirt and track pants, wet hair curling on the ends at it dried. 

Bucky really, _really_ hated Tony Stark.

“Your ace pitcher is on our doorstep.” Bucky put in the security code and opened the door. “You’re up, Cap.”

“Gentleman, good evening,” Tony said.

“Morning,” Steve greeted.

“’Night,” Bucky said as he shuffled over to the couch and collapsed.

Tony gestured between the two of them. “So, the romance really is dead then? Hitting that—what is it now—seventeen-year itch?”

A strangled laugh worked itself out of Steve’s chest. “Tony, I _will_ let him hit a line drive right at you if you don’t stop.”

“You’re cranky before breakfast,” Tony said. He leaned over the couch and right into Bucky’s face. “You forget to give him his special protein shake this morning.”

Bucky could’ve easily lunged at him, possibly bloodied that million-dollar smirk, but he’d just had the floors done. He settled for letting his most menacing glare fall on his face, the kind that made even the toughest badasses back in their alley-running days piss themselves, and smirked as Tony’s cool indifference wavered for a moment.

“Your boyfriend’s actually a wolf, isn’t he?” Tony asked.

“My, what wonderful teeth he has,” Steve said. He forcibly pushed Tony towards the kitchen. “You haven’t slept yet, I take it?”

“Happy might’ve kept me up with an _Upstairs, Downstairs_ marathon, but I was reviewing performance tapes anyway, and that started me thinking. What are the official team endorsement deals this year?”

Bucky sat up for that one. He wondered where Stark was going with this current scheme.

“David’s Sunflower Seeds, Gatorade, and Bubble Yum as per usual,” Steve said.

Tony moved around Bucky’s kitchen with far too much familiarity as he rummaged through the fridge. “You could at least pretend to consider my proposal for Perrier.”

Steve said nothing as he started to set out the ingredients for his smoothie.

“You know, ignoring your problems only make them worse,” Tony said.

Even in the low light coming from the kitchen, Bucky could see the smile teasing at the corner of Steve’s lips. 

“I consider it progress you acknowledge you’re a problem of mine,” Steve said. He turned the blender on before Tony could say anything else, only giving his full attention once he had a glass of some green monstrosity ready to consume.

“So, how do you feel about Rhodes?” Steve asked. 

“He’s got a decent arm. I still resent the trick.”

“Not a trick; a test for the both of you. We needed to see where Rhodes would benefit us the most. Catchers are easier to find than closers.”

“I think you’re insulting yourself,” Tony said. He turned to Bucky. “Are you hearing this?”

“Oh, so many times have I heard this speech,” Bucky said. And it pissed him off each and every time.

“Kids always to want to be the big home run guys. They want the fame that comes with being an offensive powerhouse,” Steve said. “No one dreams of being a catcher and spending their career devising defensive strategies for the infield.”

“I’m pretty sure Dottie Green, Yogi Berra, and the whole Molina family disagrees with you,” Tony said. “Not to mention all the kids wandering around the world with Steve Rogers’ No. 58 jerseys. I’ve always been curious, why the 58?” 

“It was the Dodgers’ first year in Los Angeles,” Bucky supplied from the couch.

“You _really_ buy into this whole avenging thing don’t you,” Tony said. 

Steve shrugged. “I can be a man of firm beliefs.”

********************

_“You’ve got to admit that Coulson’s got some balls. He’s making Tony I-Don’t-Like-To-Be-Handed-Things Stark give the ball to a guy who was a catcher until a week ago. Even with James Rhodes’ background, this seems like a disaster. I don’t know what the Avengers are thinking at this point. I know you’ve got to stand out between the Yankees and the Mets, but I don’t think this is the way to do it. What do you guys think they should do to even attempt a chance at the Wild Card? Call in and let us know.”_

“How about they mind their own fucking business,” Pietro said as he threw a rolled up pair of socks at the radio.

“Get your sister to call in and give ‘em hell,” Luke said. “Jessica tore into one of the critics just last week. Put him on the spot and asked him what’d _he’d_ do in our situation. Jackass went to dead air on his own show.”

“I’ll call,” Natasha said. She ignored the newbies who scrambled to cover themselves up, and Bucky who just leaned back in his towel and waved. “I’ve taken the liberty of compiling the scouting reports and overheard unofficial observations on all of you. I suggest you take the recommendations to heart and not try to flush them down the toilet like last time, Mr. Stark.”

“Allegedly flushed down the toilet,” Tony corrected.

Natasha handed his packet to Bruce. “See that he at least reads the notes on his slider.”

“Will do,” Bruce promised. 

********************

Sam, Bucky, and the Parker kid stretched in center field while their new short stop practiced throwing across the diamond to first. Bucky always liked Clint Barton, even if they just knew each through friendly nods at the ESPN Awards and various other baseball functions. He vaguely recalled a massive party night involving the both of them, an archery range, and Olympic prospect Kate Bishop after last year’s Home Run Derby, but most of the details of that night still remained a mystery. He was never letting Thor and Nat pick his drinks all again. His stomach rolled at the very thought.

“Hey, Kermit, what’s with the green?” Sam asked.

“Bad memories,” Bucky said. He jerked his chin towards the infield. “What do you think?”

“Man’s fast,” Sam said. “Parker can still jump higher.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Peter said with an open grin.

“That is _not_ an open endorsement to scale the walls,” Bucky said. “You make Steve frown each time you do that when it’s obvious you have no chance of catching the ball.”

“It’s not always obvious.”

“You wound up in a bullpen,” Bucky reminded him.

“That was just the once,” Parker said. 

There was a sudden loud _thump_ and Bucky whipped around to find Pietro down in the sand as Barton fucking back flipped over him.

“Okay, this looks bad,” Barton said as he landed. 

“I caught it though,” Pietro muffled as he waved his glove.

Sam cracked up. “If Barton keeps doing that, Wanda is going to rip him limb from limb.”

Bucky winced as he saw Fury and Steve charge out of the dug-out. “Yeah, Fury’s going to kill him first.”

They could probably hear Fury in the parking lot when he started to yell. “Barton, this look the goddamned circus to you?. Unless you’re actually Ozzie fucking Smith, never pull that shit on my infield again. Are we clear?” 

“It just happens,” Barton yelled back. “I’m not going to risk a cleat to my thigh if I can take air instead.”

“We are not Cirque de hotshot Soleil. Never again unless it’s fucking called for,” Fury said. 

Sam raised a hand. “Motion to get that secret mini-bar stored in my locker?”

“Seconded,” Bucky said. 

*******************

The first game of Spring Training started in less than an hour and Steve was doing his standard dugout watch after giving a rousing pep talk following Fury’s standard _Don’t Fuck Up_. Bucky and Sam flanked him as they watched the grounds crew put on the finishing touches before they took to the field and started their warm-up. He could see a few Yankees milling around their dugout as well, sorting through bats and helmets, and telling the same old bullshit gossip stories each team used to pass the nerves and time.

Steve tried not to think about how none of their prospects felt ready yet. Bradley and Altman showed a lot of promise, but it remained to be seen if they could handle the pressure of playing in New York. It wasn’t easy; much older, more experienced ball players than the two of them had completely lost it there. They just weren’t ready yet. He needed a back-up catcher that didn’t have the same team relation issues as Namor and who had the nerves to handle both Stark and LeBeau. Nothing to do about it now, though. He needed to clear his own head before he crossed the baseline.

Steve moved to his pile of gear taking up his designated spot on the bench. Mask, mitt, chest protector, knee savers, shin guards, the throat protector Sam, Bucky, and Nat guilted him into wearing starting this season, the inner protective glove Doc Erskine recommended after Steve finally admitted to some hand pain, all waited to be put on like actual armor, like they would every other inning for as long as he stayed in the game. 

“You going start getting ready there, Captain? Or should we just silently stand beyond you going ‘Caw Caw Motherfucker’ while you give your All-American Eagle stare down to the Yankees?” Sam asked.

“Bro, your obsession with birds is starting to worry me,” Bucky said.

“Hey, who took me to see that IMAX show on baby puffins? I think that was you.”

“Pufflings. You should know that. And I just wanted the astronaut ice cream, okay.”

“So, you were flirting with that ticket booth kid for nothing?”

“Hey, we got a discount. You bet I couldn’t get in under the student discount.”

“Your five o’clock shadow has a five o’clock shadow.”

“And yet you still always manage to lose when you bet me.”

Steve turned to blink very slowly at the both of them. “Are you done, Rosencrantz? Guildenstern?”

“I resent that,” Sam said. “I’m so clearly Horatio. Unlike some people, I’ve finished college.”

“The burden of not having the talent to be signed right after freshman year,” Bucky said.

Steve let himself relax and laugh for a moment. “You know, this is why so many people think you hate each other.”

“That Ward kid’s inability to understand sarcasm didn’t help much,” Sam admitted. “Who sends someone that green out to interview a whole team?”

“We’re not exactly a world class club,” Steve reminded them. They were still new, still a franchise with something to prove as one of the youngest clubs. They got a little better each season, and that’s what mattered. 

“Okay, boys, time to get out there.”

“Think we’re going to win this one, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve shrugged as he started to don his gear. “Probably not,” he said. “Tony’s only going to get about two innings before Fury will pull him, the rest will be in Wilson and Rhodey’s hands. We’re going to put the Triple-A kids out halfway through the game. It doesn’t really matter what we do now, you know that. We get out there, test the team, and then let those who are really here for a tryout prove themselves. I only want us come out of this feeling like a team. It’s training, guys. It doesn’t matter what we do here, hell, it doesn’t matter what we do in _April_. If we’re still trying to get it together by July, then I’ll worry.”

“He’s still going to worry,” Bucky stage-whispered.

“Of fucking course,” Sam said as he tugged his protective inside glove on. “Nice try, Cap. We know you always care.”

Steve just smirked as he grabbed his chest protector. On the inside someone (Bucky) had drawn a heart and written the words _90% of the game is half mental_.

****************

_“We head down to the Grapefruit League for our first Web Gem of the season. Yankees at Avengers in Tampa. Wilson and Barnes doing a little _Angels in the Outfield_ homage there before the game starts, and it must of worked because look at Peter Parker climbing the wall in left field to pull that homer run back from Kelly Johnson. Avengers win 3-2.”_


End file.
